Checkmate
by AbayJ
Summary: Their life was a game, one they had been play for years but one that was be coming complicated with each move they made. Who would checkmate the other? SarkOC


**Title**: Checkmate  
**Author**: Bay  
**Summary**: Their life was a game, one they had been play for years but one that was be coming complicated with each move they made. Who would checkmate the other?  
**Rating**: NC-17, Violence, Sex.  
**Category**: AU, Romance, Action, Humor  
**Relationships**: Sark and OC  
**Author's Note**: I haven't watched Alias for a while now, damn social life, but I do hope to catch up soon. This is an AU fic that's been playing in my head for a while, mainly because I'm such a huge Sark fan. Mmmmm David Ander's is such a hotty! Hope you like, can't wait to hear whatcha think

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**Chapter One**

The blonde reached up, lathering her hair with the strawberry scented shampoo. Feeling the heat of the water pound against her back. Relaxing the tense muscles that were bound there. Being on the run was one of her least favorite things. Her fake nails were becoming chip and making her hands look pitiful, though she couldn't risk going out and getting them fix.

Damn Andre to hell, god, all she had wanted was information. Not a big stink, but no the big dumbass had go and ruin every thing. Dipping her head under the water, she closed her eyes and felt the soap run down her body from her hair.

Then she felt something poke her back, feeling the coldness of the steal, hearing the shower curtain move back and another body stepping in. Her peripheral vision catching the white skin and blue eyes. Knowing who it was, letting a satisfied smile curve her lips.

"Don't turn around," the cold accented voice said . The pressure of the cold steal letting up a bit but still enough for her to know he was in no mood to play. Not that ever stopped her before. Julian was so much to play with. So easy to get his goad up.

"Wouldn't dream of it darling," she said back, moving hands down her neck and over her naked breast. Smiling when she heard the hitch in his breath. He could never keep the cool facade with her. Oh, he tired, tired so hard sometimes, but to her, it just made the game more interesting.

"I should kill you, you know, make my life a bloody lot easier," he said, his gun dropping further down her back. Near the crack in her buttocks. Both of them knew he could never do that, yes he was a cold assassin, just as she was, but he would never kill her. Part of him loved this game. Though the proper side of him would deny it with everything in him.

"Then go ahead, if you can," she taunted him still, not the least bit worry. Leaning down a bit and picking up the loofa. Lathering it with a berry scented body wash, rubbing her body up and down with it. Cleaning her breast with such care.

"Damn you," he whisper and dropped the gun outside the tub, his lip curling in disgust as she turned to face him. Her lips going to his as she dropped the loofa. Her lips nibbling at his, as he stood still. Trying to be aloof to her lips. She moved them down, moving to his jaw, kissing and nibbling there.

"Aww darling, don't curse at me, what fun is that," she whispered in a seductive tone. Moving her lips back to his, moving her lips against his, her tongue snaking out and pushing against his lips, wanting his own to come out and play. Letting her hands going to his firm chest. "Don't resist me darling, you've never been able to before. Come and play with me, like you do at every visit," she giggled against, pushing her body against his nude one. Feeling his erection grow, something she knew he would hate.

"Stop it Nicalye," he told her coldly, becoming the iceman. He was unbelievable sometimes, she thought.

"Why are you here Julian?" she asked, moving away from his body and grabbing a towel. Giving him space, no mood to play now. "It can't be Irina, since she is dead now. Oh by the way, thanks for telling me and my father, it meant so much to us," she said in a deadpan tone. Wrapping the towel around her lithe body before trying one up in her hair. Walking out of the small bathroom.

"Your father didn't deserve to know," he said, following her to her own room. The safe house was not her normal domain, to small for her taste, everyone knew that, no one would suspect her here, which was probably why this was a perfect place to hide out.

"The hell he didn't, he only loved Irina with all of his heart. Jack Bristrow broke her but my father healed her," she said coldly, turning to face him abruptly.

"No, he turned her into a whore, just like he did you..." the smack rang through the small hallway.

"Fucking bastard," she shouted at him, moving away. Her shoulder's squared and her steps deliberate. His arm reached out and grabbed his elbow and bring her body in contact with hers before she could move into her own room.

"I'm not a bastard, I had a father, he's just dead," he whispered in the menacing tone. "**Which you will be soon too, if you don't straighten up**!" his voice raising with each word.

Shaking her head, Nicalye tried to pull away from his painful grasp. Tired of him. The wanting gone and replace with hate. **"GET OUT JULIAN**," she shouted at him. Still pulling against his grip.

"And leave you while in your trouble. Who will bail you out then? Huh?" he taunted her, knowing she hated when he had to come to her rescue, hated when he made her feel weak like this.

"I can take care of myself," spatting at him, she finally broke free. Standing toe to toe with him, but her head only reaching his shoulder. Her small 5 foot frame firm and lithe but small. Making her words sound ludicrous.

"I agree but you have got in more trouble then you know," he told her, crossing his arms against the broad chest.

"**How do you even know any of this**!" she shouted, shaking her hair free of the towel, throwing it at him.

"Don't worry, just go get dress and we'll talk over dinner," he told her coldly and began to walk away.

She couldn't let him win this round, he never won the first round. Undoing the towel that was around her wet body, she threw it, hitting him on the head. Watching as he turned and look at her directly.

Watching his blue eyes turn a deeper shade, with desire she knew. One for Nicalye and Zero for Sark. Turning on her heel, she moved to her room. The mood to play coming back, her mind turning with so many possibilities to make his life a living hell while he was here. Trying to save her from herself, in his own words that was.


End file.
